


belonging (together)

by fromthefarshore



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAka Week 2020, Cheesy, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthefarshore/pseuds/fromthefarshore
Summary: the journey of Keiji and Koutarou, and their feelings throughout the years
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	1. childhood friends

**Author's Note:**

> it's _bokuaka_ week aaaaaaaaa they're forever in my heart so I want to try to do at least something little for this week!  
> this being said, I'm planning to write a short few chapters fic following the prompts; I'm not sure yet how many of the days I can manage to write, but there will be at least 3 (pretty short) chapters
> 
> thanks for giving this little story a chance and I hope you'll enjoy it! <3

There's a bright yellow coloured swing in the little clearing right behind the corner of the house Koutarou lives in, and Koutarou hates it. 

The hatred has nothing to do with the swing itself though; Koutarou likes the colour of it because it reminds him of the sun and also of omelette with rice that his mom makes on Saturdays, but it's so  _ annoying  _ that the kids' park just has to be where his mom's sight does not reach, which means Koutarou can't go there alone. 

At least not until he's  _ six  _ and that is still a whole month away, and Koutarou knows it is definitely a long time because he doesn't even have enough fingers to count it (even if he used his toes!). What he doesn’t know, though, is that four days later his mom will tell him he can go out in the evening because her friend from the neighbourhood is often bringing her son to the park and she can keep an eye on Koutarou as well.

“Be nice to Mrs Akaashi,” his mom will say. “And try to befriend Keiji.”

-

Koutarou is turning sixteen, and his legs end up at a weird angle when he sits down on the swing made for children. Keiji leans against the pole which supports the whole construction. Slightly peeled off paint sticks to his blazer.

“So,” he asks, “how does it feel being old?”

“Oh, that’s a feeling one cannot explain,” Koutarou grins, “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see for yourself, huh?”

“Aah the wisdom of elders,” Keiji says, keeping a serious note to his voice, but smiling nevertheless. 

Koutarou laughs, throwing his head back. The chains of the swing rattle from the movement as he holds onto them with his hands. He looks up at the sky.

“You’re going to break it one day,” Keiji comments, but then he’s straightening up and coming to sit on the swing hanging beside. He's not sure if Keiji is throwing big phrases at him again and means the sky or he simply talks about the swing. Koutarou decides on the latter.

“No one else really comes here anyway.”

It’s kind of their place, actually. At least Koutarou believes so as most of the kids have migrated to the new playgrounds built around, leaving the small corner of a park to old people who love equally old benches under the trees, and for Koutarou with Keiji to spend their evenings away from their parents’ eyes, sharing teenage secrets and staring into the sky after long hours of volleyball practice.

Now, the sky is turning orange, with touches of gold reflecting on the edges of the clouds, and when Koutarou turns his head to look at Keiji, the yellow paint on his blazer seems to fit in perfectly well with the whole scene they’re in.

The minutes pass half-past five, and even without checking the time, Koutarou knows it’s exactly thirty-four minutes past when Keiji opens his mouth and says,

“Happy birthday, Koutarou.”

-

There's a yellow coloured swing in the little clearing right behind the corner of the house Koutarou lives in, and Koutarou loves it. 

The love has nothing to do with the swing itself though; Koutarou doesn’t like how the paint is peeling off and no one cares to renew it, leaving it for the rust to do the poor job, but it’s right where he’s met Keiji, it’s right where he’s spent countless days and evenings with him, laughing and crying together. It’s a place where Koutarou's heart got filled with most warmth and it's a place where he is never alone.


	2. moving in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late day 2 chapter; planning another one for day 3 today!

The next time Koutarou, in general, starts feeling alone is a year he spends renting a flat on his own. He has friends, he visits his parents on the weekends, but a weird feeling sometimes settles in his chest in the evenings when the realisation of being 'on his own' hits him.

"Well, you've always been more of a people person," Keiji says when Koutarou complains about it on one of the occasions. Keiji is visiting him, fizzy drinks and unhealthy snacks on the table, a bag with sleepover clothes resting beside the wall.

"Yeah, but it's somehow different," Koutarou says, trying to put his finger on the feeling he has and convey it to Keiji. "It's like… like, you know, as if something is missing?" He furrows his eyebrows and looks around the room. "As if it lacks the finishing touch." 

Keiji hums, trying to think of the reason behind it but nothing comes to his mind. He reaches for the potato chips and throws one into his mouth. The crispy sound breaks his train of thought. 

"Maybe I just sometimes miss home," Koutarou concludes himself, but his mind does not really leave the room of his apartment as he says it. His eyes stay on Keiji, on his voice of reason, even when this time the realisation starts forming in Koutarou's own head. Suddenly, he lets out a gasp. 

"What?" Keiji asks, quickly checking if he took the last of Koutarou's favourite chips, but it doesn't seem to be the case.

"I think I might know what I need to fix."

Koutarou is smiling, any traces of the gloominess threatening to appear now gone from his face. 

"After almost a year?" Keiji teases. 

Koutarou laughs, nodding.

"Better late than never, right? But _wow_ , I can't believe I never realised this? It's so clear what's missing!" He looks around again like it was the first time he saw the place and eventually his eyes come to rest on Keiji's face. He grins.

"So?" Keiji asks. "I know it sometimes seems like I can read your mind, but even my powers don't always work that well."

Bokuto snorts and he leans over the low table, placing his hands on Keiji's shoulders. 

"It's _you_ ," he finally says. 

-

Keiji has been thinking about moving out of his parents' house when he starts working so it'd be easier to commute and he could save time in the mornings and evenings. The idea has always seemed a bit daunting, but at the same time, it has filled Keiji with excitement for a new step in his life and new experiences. He knew he wants and has to do it. 

He's considered becoming roommates with Koutarou; both of them have, on lazy afternoons spent on the swings and during sleepovers which would always end with whispers and uncontrolled laughter in the darkness. It has seemed like the best idea, a way to fight the risk of becoming bored with adult life, a way to enjoy their lives the most even when they are no longer kids. 

Now, Keiji smiles at the memories and turns his head to the side, looking at Koutarou sleeping on a futon a few feet away from him. His bleached out and silvered hair stand out in the darkness, doing exactly what Koutarou has wanted it to do, even if he was mostly interested in flashing during the day. 

It's crazy to think that _this_ is not a sleepover, that there is no backpack which Keiji would stuff with his things in the morning, that it's not a weekend, and tomorrow Keiji will wake up with Koutarou already out to be on time for his training, but when Keiji comes back from his job, Koutarou will be here, Koutarou will greet him home and they'll have dinner together. 

Keiji covers his face even if no one else can see his silly smile. Moving in with Koutarou is his childhood dream coming true, it's his teenage hopes manifesting into reality. 

It's their place; like the yellow swings have always been, except this time they can call it by a different name.

-

"I'm home."

"Welcome back."


	3. first kiss

Keiji has always known that the warmth which Koutarou fills him with meant something bigger, something  _ more _ , yet he's never tried to fully acknowledge it and make things complicated. He likes being with Koutarou, he likes their friendship and even if some little thoughts from time to time try to invade his mind, Keiji has never had any ulterior motives with Koutarou. 

He's told Koutarou before that he thinks- that he's pretty sure he likes guys and not girls. It was the winter during their high school years. They were eating oden from the convenience store near their school, sitting on the guardrails close to the road. There wasn't any preparation, there wasn't any specific reason, and up until this day, Keiji is not sure why he chose exactly that moment to come out to Koutarou. Maybe because Koutarou liked oden, maybe because it was a sunny day, maybe because it was their favourite way to have lunch back then and perhaps in that very moment Keiji thought there was nothing Koutarou could start hating him for. Whatever it was, it worked. 

Koutarou accepted him, unconditionally and immediately, saying he was glad for him, saying it was great that Keiji knew who he likes and that he himself is still confused about love and romance in general. 

His only true love was (and still is), volleyball. 

And yet, recently there's something more going on with Koutarou, Keiji is simply not sure if he's projecting onto his friend and it's his personal issue or Koutarou's behaviour is changing slightly.

“Come on, this way,” Koutarou says as he grabs Keiji’s hand, effortlessly lacing their fingers together. He’s leading Keiji to the opening near the riverside, through bushes and trees, never letting go of his hand even if Keiji can clearly see where to do. And it bugs Keiji, in a strange sense of uncertainty as hand-holding was never their thing, as it makes Keiji’s palm sweaty with the nervousness of where his mind is travelling on its’ own.

“I’m sure you’ll love it, Keiji,” Koutarou breathes, his voice barely above a whisper as if talking any louder could dissolve the imagery. “It’s like a picture of your visual novels, just wait, I’m not lying-”

It feels intimate. The whispers and tenderness in Koutarou’s voice, the way his fingers caress Keiji’s hand, the way he smiles and his eyes linger on Keiji for a few moments too long to be a simple glance to check if all is fine. And maybe Keiji is going crazy, maybe what he thought was just an innocent tiny crush on his childhood friend is something more, something that is finally getting out of hand, but as he goes through the reasons and causes in his head, Keiji realises that more than anything it was Koutarou’s recent actions which fueled the change in his feelings. Koutarou has suddenly gotten more touchy, has started sending compliments Keiji’s way and stealing looks, and now-

“This made me think of you,” he says when they come to a stop. The river lazily turns in front of their eyes, the lights coming from the city further away reflecting on the water, glittering in golds and yellows, and oranges. There is not a single another person here and the bench built close to the bank seems forgotten. Throughout the years it appears to have sunk into the ground quite a bit.

“You know that this,” Keiji looks around and even holds up their clasped hands, “has major  _ date  _ energy?” He’s surprised that his voice doesn’t tremble when he says it and that his cheeks are miraculously not burning up, at least not yet.

Bokuto slowly nods.

“Is it a bad thing?” he asks carefully. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Keiji says, then scowls. “Wait, no, I mean- I do- I- it’s just.” He takes a deep breath. “Do  _ you _ want it to be a date? With me?”

Koutarou blinks at him.

“Yes?” he finally says. “I thought- oh my god, I thought you picked up on my attempts to flirt with you and-” He lets go of Keiji’s hand and puts his palms together, “please just tell me I didn’t ruin our friendship, I honestly assumed it was mutual…”

“You-” Keiji’s eyes widen, “you  _ like _ me? You like guys?”

“I’m pretty sure I like you. A lot.” Koutarou looks down not to meet Keiji’s eyes. “I’m not sure about anything else, I would have told you otherwise.”

“How do you know you actually like me? In a, um, romantic way?”

Koutarou looks up, his lips trembling as he tries to withhold a silly smile that whatever thought he has in his mind is bringing up. And suddenly, Keiji doesn’t need the answer, not anymore, not when it’s clearly written in Koutarou’s eyes and resonates perfectly well within his own body.

Still, Koutarou voices it out.

“Because if I could, I’d kiss you right this moment.”

Keiji takes a deep breath, unsuccessfully trying to calm his racing heart, and as he leans forward, he prays that this is not a mistake.

“Then do,” he says, and he presses their lips together.

The sound of the river melts completely away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there probably won't be a chapter for day 4  
> also sorry if my grammar is turning weird, what are tenses-


	4. touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 5 with a very short chapter because work has drained out my energy.....  
> also idk who I tried to fool thinking I won't make this cheesy haha

Weeks and months pass by as if they were clouds on a windy summer day and the appearance of each reminded Keiji again and again that his first kiss with Koutarou was not a mistake (and neither was second one or third, or whatever the count was now).

"So?" Koutarou hums, his arms twining around Keiji's waist from behind. 

"So what?" Keiji asks, trying not to lean into the touch too much. He's getting a meal done for tomorrow's lunch box and if he stops now, it will never be finished. Koutarou puts his chin on Keiji's shoulder.

"Are you gonna come for the volley game with the guys, mm? On the weekend."

"You know I haven't played in _months_ ," Keiji tries to protest, but he knows it's pointless. He's not even sure why he's putting up a little fight because he knows he will agree. Nonetheless, it's pleasant to hear the tenderness in Koutarou's voice when he drawls his name out, 

"Keiiiiiji." He takes a deep breath, "First, you still play perfectly well. Second, we're gonna play in pairs and what's cooler than a power couple in volleyball?” Keiji can _hear_ him grin. ”Am I right?" 

Keiji snorts at this and actually ends up chuckling at the image coming to his mind. He tilts his head to the side, just a bit, just enough to feel the touch of Koutarou's skin on his cheek.

"Is that a yes?"

Keiji hums in approval, in content. 

"You're the best," Koutarou says. He doesn't let go. "You know I love you a whole lot?" 

"Ahh, so is this what I get for agreeing to join you?" Keiji asks, his voice light and amused. 

"You'd get it anyway," Koutarou says with a smile and then, he tightens his arms around Keiji in a nearly crushing hug.

"You're taking my breath away," Keiji comments and giggles at how silly he sometimes gets with Koutarou. "In all ways possible." 

Koutarou gives him a cheeky look. 

"Very smooth," he says, reluctantly letting go. "Alright," he then stands next to Keiji and looks at the half-prepared food in front of him, "now let's get your meal ready." 

-

Koutarou doesn't need to let go of Keiji when they're lying on the futons later that night, legs tangled, Keiji's fingers ghosting over Koutarou's neck, eager to go up and get lost in his hair. He lets them do exactly that and Koutarou leans into the touch as he _always_ does. Keiji kisses him. 

"You know I love you, right?" he says, in a hush fitting the dimness of the evening around them.

Koutarou's face is clear in front of him, though. He can easily make out his features, the lively shining in his eyes, the curl of a beam on his lips. 

"I'd suppose you do," Koutarou says, breaking into a full smile. He pulls Keiji closer. 

"I do," Keiji says. He takes a deep breath. "Madly so." 

Koutarou smells nice.

He smells a bit like summer right at Keiji's fingertips.


	5. recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 7 chapter! I'm wrapping up the story with this one; even though I could participate only a little bit, it was nice to get back to bokuaka again.  
> thanks, everyone who reads this little fic, it's not much but I hope you'll enjoy the last bit of it!

"I cannot believe this," Koutarou whines, eyeing the cold compress Keiji keeps on his finger. They're walking to the station ready to go home, skipping the group meal after the volleyball games as Keiji seems to have sprained his finger.

"We could have stayed, you know," he says, a little smile twirling at the corner of his lips. "It's not such a big deal."

Koutarou groans. 

"It could have broke." 

"Yet it didn't." 

"You're too chill." 

Keiji laughs. 

"You're too nervous," he says. "More than anyone you should know this sometimes happens. It was my mistake, so don't blame Hinata for a good spike, alright?" He bumps his shoulder against Koutarou's. "And don't blame yourself." 

"Only if you promise to tell if it's not getting better," Koutarou says, with a sigh. He feels bad about this whole volleyball game being his idea, even if he understands that Keiji's little injury is not his fault and it could have happened to anyone.

"It will get better for sure, but yes, alright, I promise." 

Keiji finds Koutarou's reaction endearing of a sort, bringing warmth and the peculiar sense of happiness to his chest. So when they get to the station and Keiji's eyes fall on the familiar orange of the Tokaido line on the map, he grabs Koutarou's hand and stops. 

"Let's go that way?" 

It takes Koutarou barely a moment to lift his eyes up and realise what Keiji means. He gives a concerned look to Keiji's finger, but he doesn't protest when Keiji pulls him to start walking to the platform on the left. 

-

They change the line once, standing up from their seats and walking without thinking as every step is deeply carved within their bodies. Koutarou doesn't ask why Keiji has decided to suddenly change their evening plans, but he seems amused. The worry in his eyes is gradually subduing, albeit not completely disappearing, but only giving up some of the space for nostalgia and content. 

"It could have been kind of a surprise," Keiji says when they exit the station and as if on command both turn to the right, "but it was impossible for you not to notice where I want to go." 

"Isn't it a nice thing, though?" Koutarou asks. "Having history. Having something for us only." 

And Koutarou's right, absolutely so. It is nice and it is the reason Keiji suddenly felt such an urge to come here, to remember things, to add more memories to the already existing sea of them. 

The swings are still not repainted. The bright yellow is strongly clinging to the metal, refusing to let go. Keiji is glad for that. After all, it's that very same yellow which all of his good memories are painted with.

"We stayed here until night time when you first sprained your finger in practice and were afraid to tell your mom," Koutarou says, walking to the swing and sitting down. "I'm starting to see the pattern."

Keiji follows him, smiling. 

"It's clearly a coincidence," he says with a chuckle. "Many things have happened here." 

Koutarou hums. He starts swinging a bit back and forth, as much as his legs allow him. 

It feels just like back in the days of high school, coming to rest here after volleyball practices, to eat snacks and talk, talk, talk. Always together, like it was the only rule of the yellow swings and they could not and did not want to break it.

"It's been two decades," Koutarou says. "Can you believe that?" 

Keiji opens his mouth to say he cannot because it sounds crazy, it sounds unbelievably long, but the words don't escape him. For the truth is, he can. 

It's been two decades of being friends with Koutarou, of always having him by his side, of growing to like him more and more, of loving and cherishing him, and now, in this very moment, what Keiji _cannot_ imagine is his life any other way. 

They belong together. They've always had, since the very first moment of seeing each other, since the very first awkward hellos and very first introductions. 

The only question Keiji's mind comes up with is if they can last two more decades like this, if they can last _more_ than that. 

He doesn't really need to think to answer it, though. 

"Oh, yes," he says, both to Koutarou and to himself. 

Koutarou smiles, wide and cheeky, and it fills Keiji with joy.

Like this, his sprained finger doesn't hurt at all.


End file.
